#hellshazbins

@hells-hazbins || Continued

When Genevieve first heard that same slogan that her husband used in life being spoken by one of the Overlords, she knew right away who it was. It did however take her awhile to get the courage to go and see him. She had seen him start a whole new empire, he had a whole new life and he seemed happy. She didn't want to ruin that for him.

It took their daughter telling her to go, it was only right that he knew and she also wanted to meet him seeing as Lucille was born after he died.

So she booked an appointment with him, of course it was months in advance. She had time to plan what she was going to wear and say. She decided on an dress from the 40s, navy blue in colour with a flowing skirt, petticoat underneath. She knew that she had a similar dress that Vincent loved when they were alive and decided to make a dress specially for this meeting.

She arrived early and waited until his assistant came out and called for her. She followed him in, straightening out her dress while all words left her as she saw him sitting there. Sure she had seen him on TV before but this was something else.

Bringing her left hand up to her necklaces, she played with the pendant, a sign of her nervousness, the same thing she did in life, her wedding ring shining brightly on her finger.

@hells-hazbins sent

‘ It isn’t very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living. ‘ (Blitz @ Stolas)

"Oh Blitzy. You're hot when you're angry." Stolas would say he's hot all of the time but he can't help the sing-song teasing. Something had gotten Blitz into a mood but he's not sure why. Should he ask? He's not sure about that either.

Her eyes narrow deeply behind her mask at the sight of the table, the neat and orderly plates, the courses of food already set out and ripe for the taking, steam rising from the cooling plates, indicating freshness. There was even a scent of the food in the air, heavy and rich, of cooked meat and spices, of melted cheese and roasted vegetables. It was all made with care, clear and neat precision, and it only made her wings prickle with suspicion and the stump of a wound long healed over vaguely ache.

Husk knows why he’s here. Call it a vested interest, call it stalking, whatever you called it, he’s here to see Angel. Needs to see him. Needs to know he’s okay–knows he probably isn’t.

Maybe Valentino knows how this will go, Husk doubts he’s sneaky enough not to be noticed making his way backstage. But if he was, and it was some kind of boon from Lady Luck, who was he to question it?

So, he stands there, watching from the sidelines as Angel performs to what he guesses is Valentino’s taste. And fuck did the moth like it cheap. Cheap liquor. Cheap decor. Cheap costumes. Dressed a diamond like Angel down so far he believed this was what he was worth, but Husk knew differently.

Maybe one day he could show him that.

But that day was not today.

He hadn’t meant to jump scare the spider, but the look on his face when he saw him told him he’d done just that. Told him he wasn’t welcome even before Angel stepped past him and told him to go.

“That wasn’t a…friendly thing to say.” Comes out before he can stop it, fingers wrapping gently around one of Angel’s wrists–had he gotten thinner?–and then the spider is glaring at him. Yanking away and telling him to leave. Worried what Valentino would do to Husk, the feline snorted.

“Sure, that’s why he needed your help last time.” Hell, he’d HAD Angel’s help and Husk had still sent him out the window.

"Are you asking why I never... called? After all of it?" They had not abandoned Lucifer down here, he had ways of contacting them. Michael ensured it, because he was his twin, he would never leave him alone no matter what it was that had become of them. Michael detested the idea of not having his twin safe or around. But just because Lucifer had a way of contacting him and vice versa didn't mean Michael would reach out. And since Lucifer didn't either... they were just like this.

Worse? Emily's eyes scanned the area, the destruction that befell hell the last time he decided he wanted to be worse, and her wing tucked closer to her body, the one that was fried when the cannon came in contact with her. What could have been worse at this point? Though Emily knew nothing she could say would change this, not right now, but still she had to ask a simple question: "Do you not want to get better because you're afraid, or do you not think that you can ever truly be good so you wish to be worse?" Her head tilted, a friendly smile on her lips. "I'm trying to understand your thought process. Would you explain it to me?"